Late Night Noodles
by epopolow
Summary: Tsubaki sidled next to Kuro and whispered softly in his ear, "What are you doing up so late, Onii-sama?" Kuro flinched, and was about to shrink away, when he decided against the troublesome act and kept his chill composure. With a frown he replied, "Such a pain…I'd rather die." Light fluff... some romance... enjoy!


The light patter of rain tip-toeing on the rooftop was incredibly soothing as thunder rumbled in the distance and jagged streaks of lightning pierced the sky.  
Kuro sprawled on the pile of blankets and slurped some chicken cup noodles while his PS4 game was paused. Every light was off, and the entire house was silent as he listened to the lull of the instrumental through a pair of buttery soft headphones.  
Mahiru was asleep in his room, and lucky for Kuro it was a Friday night so he could stay up a few extra hours to play his game and relax before the sun rose and Mahiru awakened later than on a school day only to drag the poor cat around to hang with his friends and come up strategies to defeat Tsubaki.  
Tsubaki? Kuro swallowed the last of his noodles and immediately reached into a bag of potato chips. Tsubaki's slender form, which reminded Kuro of a blooming lotus, those maddening crimson eyes—not that he could complain since his were red too—ebony hair that glistened like silk, and a haunting grin that made the servamp of sloth shudder as it flicked quickly through his head.  
_END GAME_ flashed on the TV screen and Kuro sighed as he decided to quit the console for a bit and play Pokemon instead on the 3DS. At least with the 3DS he could lay down on the floor and stretch out his sore limbs.  
Realizing that he'd forgotten about the warm broth that accompanied his noodles, he plucked the Styrofoam cup from the floor and slowly, slowly drank the remaining broth rich with chicken stock and a hefty amount of condensed vegetables. He let the warmth encompass his body, wrap around him in a reassuring hug.  
His stomach content, Kuro continued training his pokemon team to face the Elite 4.  
It was much too troublesome to search on the internet which type of pokemon was more effective against others, so he took his chance on a ragtag party of his favorite high-leveled partners and confronted the Kalos League.  
Absorbed in some difficult decisions, Kuro didn't notice the window sliding open with squeeeeeak, the familiar tapping of high wooden sandals, the hungry gaze of his youngest newfound brother, Tsubaki.  
Tsubaki sidled next to Kuro and whispered softly in his ear, "What are you doing up so late, Onii-sama?"  
Kuro flinched, and was about to shrink away, when he decided against the troublesome act and kept his chill composure. With a frown he replied, "Such a pain…I'd rather die."  
The Servamp of melancholy broke out in outrageous laugher, "Ahaha-Ahahah-Haha-ah-hahah… aaaah…So boring…" His younger brother's eyes downcast behind the thick sunglasses and he snatched the second controller that lay beside the TV stand, pressed the ON button for the PS4, and thumbed START with a malicious smirk.  
"Wanna race, Onii-sama?"  
Kuro groaned and answered dully, "I'd rather die… too much work." Then added in a mutter, "Tired. Want to sleep."  
Tsubaki's breath ghosted hotly around Sleepy Ash's ear, making him shudder. "At least play one game with your Onii-sama?"  
Kuro rolled his scarlet eyes in exasperation. "Just for a bit."  
Tsubaski immediately clicked the "DUEL" option on the PS4 Kuro hadn't seen him boot up the console but here they were, smack dab in front of a lit TV screen, the PS4 whirring as it read the disk…  
Tsubaki sneered, "How about this? If you win, I'll leave you alone for a week. If I win, you have to comply to one thing I desire. One thing, and one thing only."  
Kuro scratched his head and yawned. "If you'll leave me alone." Then added softly under his breath, "Really can't deal..."  
Tsubaki chuckled manically to the point of heaving, breathlessness, and Kuro placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Tsubaki drawled monotonously, "Ah… how boring."  
Kuro shifted into his cat-form, laid atop the couch cushions, and snored, "So tired…"  
Tsubaki stifled a snicker. "How typical of my eldest Onii-sama, Sleepy Ash. Not that it matters, anyway. If you don't agree, I'll just kill your Eve."  
His tone was so flat, emotionless, and wicked that Kuro instantly felt… pity? Compassion? An insane twisted affection for the brother he never knew he had until so recently.  
"I'll play," he muttered. "But not that long. Tired. Want to sleep with Mahiru." He yawned.  
Tsubaki clutched the controller as if it were the very boundary between heaven and hell.  
Kuro monotonously announced, "Start!"  
The race began, and ended expectantly, at two minutes whereas Tsubaki was the clear winner.  
Kuro let go of his controller and collapsed onto the couch. "Can't… deal…"  
"I know you're stronger than that, Onii-sama," Tsubaki purred as he leaned over Kuro and tucked a quilted throw around the elder Servamp's body.  
"There! Nice and cozy!" he exclaimed with a short laugh before mumbling lowly, "How boring."  
Tsubaki laid with Kuro, tangles his hands in his hair, turned into a twin-tailed fox and snuggled beside Kuro's sleepy cat form as they watched a scary movie on Netflix before eventually falling asleep.  
Kuro woke up to a missing Tsuabki, completely gone, along with his opened bag of potato chips and six-pack of cup noodles.  
An hour later Kuro woke up to find that it was still late at night and Tsubaki was toying around with his games…  
The duo played Mario Cart until 6 PM, when the thinnest slice of sunlight began to seep through the window blinds and Tsubaki was ahead by two races. Kuro stood up, scratched his neck, and shut the windows blinds completely, murmured irritably, "Such a pain..." He took a deep breath and was about to transform into his adorable black-cat form when Tsubaki closed the distance between them and planted a deep, chaste kiss onto his pale virginal lips. Eyes widening in shock, Kuro tried to pull away but his younger brother wrapped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him deeper, more desperately into the kiss, mouths crushing together, tongues freely exploring across fangs and sensitive caverns. A rope of saliva connected the brothers as Tsubaki broke the kiss and jokingly caressed Kuro's taunt, pallid abs. Sleepy Ash couldn't control the expression of pleasure that creased his features as Tsubaki licked a hot trail from his right ear to his collarbone, halted, and pecked him softly on the cheek.  
"Let's have lots of fun together, Onii-sama," he whispered hauntingly, resumed his small twin-tailed fox-form, and curried out the window.  
The sun began to rise above the horizon like a sizzling egg.  
Mahiru wobbled drowsily out of his room and waved a hand to Kuro.  
"Mahiru…" Kuro whispered, and in an instant, he was behind his eve, fangs elongated, red-eyes swimming with bloodlust.  
"Hungry, Kuro?" Mahiru chuckled.  
The Servamp sank his fangs deep into the boy's throat, relished the sweet, rich quality of his blood and his blood alone, let it slide warmly down his throat, quench the insatiable hunger that had plagued him since the moment he had become a Servamp in the first place.  
When he yanked free, Mahiru scowled indignantly at him. "Asking first is much more simple."  
Kuro faintly smirked. "Sorry, Mahiru. A lot… happened last night."  
"Like what?" his eve planted his hands on his hips like an irritated maid.  
"Couldn't sleep," Kuro mumbled awkwardly.  
"Hop in here and you can rest the rest of the day I guess,"Mahiru shrugged. "Whatever you want, Kuro. You really need to stop playing games so late at night."he yawned.  
Mahiru shrugged. "Whatever you want, Kuro. You really need to top playing games so late at night."  
"I'm a vampire… what else would you expect?"  
Mahiru sighed. "I spoke without thinking."  
"Be soothed by my adorable form!" Kuro exclaimed and poked his head out from the top of the backpack and pawed the back of Mahiru's neck playfully with a content purr.  
"So… tired…"  
Mahiru listened to the faint snoring of his cat-er-Servamp while he walked to school in the scattered shadows of the trees turning their leaves. As he approached the school gates, a short man wearing sunglasses and a suave black suit with high-heel wooden sandals that did so not match the rest of him what-so-ever, clopped by him. A chill rippled across his spine, an insane sneer and a low chuckle, but before he could move, the man was already gone, a discarded bowl of Styrofoam cup noodles rolling on the pavement.  
Roast chicken-flavor, his favorite.  
This was war.


End file.
